


gotta see a man about a

by electrumqueen



Series: gone to the dogs [1]
Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Dogs, Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M, off screen animal abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-25 23:16:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6214102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electrumqueen/pseuds/electrumqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I got you a <i>dog</i>,” Robert says. “I don’t even <i>like</i> dogs.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	gotta see a man about a

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to j for the readover, as always <3333
> 
> #GETAARONLIVESYADOG2K16
> 
> cw: mentions of animal harm (see endnotes for details); fantasy approaches to animal rehabilitation

 

-

 

It’s Robert’s fault. The fights are usually Robert’s fault. Not that this is really a fight. More of a minor apocalypse.

They’re not uncommon. He’s not been dumped immediately, which means he won’t be dumped, but Aaron is going to make him miserable for the short term. Not new news. Not specific to this relationship, either.

He is thinking about buying a more comfortable sofa but he thinks that would be giving in, and Robert Sugden does not back down from a fight.

He’s just going to have to do something fucking nice to make it up. That’s that.

 

And soon. His balls are turning an unfortunate shade of indigo.

 

-

 

“Listen,” Paddy says. “I wouldn’t call if I didn’t think-”

Robert puts his hands in his pockets.

“Look,” Paddy continues. He’s a rambler, is Paddy. “I know you and me have had our differences-” _like the time you shot me,_ Robert mentally inserts, “but we both love Aaron. And I think this would be good for him. He’ll bite my head off if it comes from me, though.”

“And he won’t if it comes from me?”

“You’re used to it,” Paddy says. “You’re the person he likes most right now, anyway.” Saying that clearly means _Paddy_ is lower in Aaron’s books than Robert is. That’s something.

Robert hums. He does suppose it’s a nice thing, anyway.

Well, nice for Aaron.

 

-

 

“What have you _done,_ ” Aaron says, hands up in the air, rolling his eyes violently at both of them. “Jesus, Robert, one fucking fight, it didn’t even mean that much-”

“I think it’s a nice gesture,” Paddy says.

“Shut up,” Aaron says to him, and turns to Robert. “Did you - Adam did this to Victoria.”

“Yeah,” Robert says. “But you like dogs.”

The dog in question - a big shepherd-something else mix with large teeth and a disposition that could kindly be described as _vile_ \- snarls at all of them indiscriminately.

Aaron swallows, eyes lighting up; he looks at the dog and then back at Robert and then at the dog again. He falls to his knees and the dog growls but noses gently towards Aaron nonetheless.

“Told you,” Paddy says. “He’s a rotten creature, they were going to put him down.”

“They _never,_ ” says Aaron, indignant.

The dog has rolled over onto its back and he’s rubbing its belly while its tail wags. It looks as happy as a puppy, and Aaron is beaming, too.

Robert blinks and leans down. Maybe he got it wrong?

“I wouldn’t do that,” Paddy says.

The dog bares its teeth and snaps for Robert’s hand; Aaron catches it, holds it back. “Jesus, Robert,” he says. “D’you wanna not be a complete idiot for five seconds?”

“Excuse me,” Robert says, taking a step back.

“His name is Spot,” Paddy says, smugly. Paddy is a fucking traitor with no loyal bone in his body.

Aaron makes a fond cooing sort of sound Robert has never heard come out of his throat before, and the vile animal barks happily and returns to his arms, tail wagging innocently. “Hiya Spot,” he says. “Are you excited to come home with us? Yeah, you are.”

Spot pauses and makes eye contact with Robert.

Robert is pretty sure he sees hellfire.

 

-

 

Technically, the fight was about Liv. Liv, like Spot the dog, is a walking, snarling trainwreck. At least Spot can’t lie to Robert’s face, though.

Aaron persists in thinking his little sister is basically a good person. Robert admires his ability to give the benefit of the doubt, but cannot share it. He doesn’t think that makes him a bad person: just pragmatic. She has kicked him in the balls more than once, he’s just saying.

 

They have reached a compromise, anyway. Robert wanted her to not come visit them, lie to them, and steal from them; Aaron wanted her to come visit them, lie to them, and steal from them. They have settled on her being allowed to come visit, lie and steal twice a week, and only if Sandra allows it in advance.

It’s great. Robert feels like an adult, in a real relationship.

(Frankly, he hates it. He misses making unilateral decisions and always getting his own way.

But he was miserable, and now he’s not. And he didn’t have Aaron, and now he does.

So he supposes he’ll have to manage.)

 

-

 

“Am I still on the sofa?” Robert asks, after they’ve been to the pet shop in Hotten and basically brought all of it home with them. He’s not looking forward to his credit card statement but Aaron had had that little Aaron smile curving his mouth the entire way through so he supposes he’ll have to live with it.

Spot has curled himself up on a sunny patch under the window and has his head on his paws. When Robert drifts close by - usually to set up one of the eighteen different enormous dog accessories Aaron’s bought - he opens his eyes and glares. When Robert drifts too close, he snarls.

Aaron pours some dog food into a dish. “I’ll think about it,” he says.

Robert waits for him to be done then catches him by the belt-loops, reels him in. “I love you,” he says, because that works, always.

“Just because you say that doesn’t mean you’re forgiven,” Aaron says, allowing himself to be dragged. “I’m not that easy.”

“I got you a _dog,_ ” Robert says. “I don’t even _like_ dogs.”

“Paddy got me a dog,” Aaron says. “You took the blame for in case it went wrong.”

“All right,” Robert says. “I took the blame for getting you a dog.”

Aaron laughs at him, wide-open, sweet. God, Robert loves him. “Muppet.”

“Your dog hates me,” Robert complains. “All dogs hate me.”

Aaron makes a little face at him. “Moan, moan, moan,” he says. “Do you ever shut up?”

“Nah,” Robert says, easily. “You’re gonna have to make me.”

Aaron’s mouth twitches up at the corners and he grabs Robert by the collar of his shirt and kisses him, right there in their kitchen, with the sun on their shoulders and their miserable dog asleep in the corner and Robert thinks: _this is it, Sugden. You’ve made it. Don’t fuck this up._

 

-

 

Robert has made a list of things Spot the dog does not like. It goes, in no particular order: Robert, cats, Robert, other dogs, Paddy (at least Robert’s not alone), humans who are not Aaron, cars, mandatory obedience class (thank god for Paddy), Robert.

Here is a list of things Spot does like. It goes: Aaron; making Robert miserable.

At least Spot has decided he doesn’t like making Aaron sad, and savaging Robert would do that. So he settles for just growling a lot, and sprawling all over Aaron any time Robert tries to kiss him. Or hold him. Or breathe in remotely his direction.

Robert hates this fucking dog so fucking much.

 

Once he had a dream about wearing its fur like a nice coat and he woke up smiling so wide Aaron squinted at him suspiciously and said, “Sex dream?” and then, “don’t think you’re getting lucky, mate,” but then Robert caught him and kissed him and Aaron climbed on top of him and it was like, quite nice, all up.

(Of course, they were interrupted by Spot barking at the door, and of _course_ Aaron looked horrified at the idea of abandoning his ravening hell-beast for more than a second. But Aaron came back apologetic and warm and very magnanimously, Robert and Robert’s dick forgave him.)

 

-

 

Liv and Spot the dog snarl at each other for about forty-five seconds and then decide they love each other, play a very enthusiastic game of tug of war in the garden and then fall asleep in a pile in the living room at which Aaron beams as though fucking angels have descended and are in their midst.

 

“Figures they wouldn’t even have the decency to fight amongst themselves,” Robert mutters.

“Did you say something?” Aaron asks. He’s looking at his kid sister and his murderous dog snuggled up together, and he’s gone all soft and joyful, and Robert fucking hates that he’s feeling _grateful_ to those two poisonous mammals, but he is, that’s that, it’s happened.

“Not a word,” Robert says, blithely. “Just making a cuppa, did you want one?”

 

-

 

It turns out Spot was part of a dog-fighting ring. That’s why he’s got scars on his ribs and his jaws; that’s why he flinches at the wrong light and the wrong sounds. The shelter that got him couldn’t handle him, and that’s why they called Paddy.

Paddy didn’t want to say anything. Robert wishes he hadn’t. He supposes it’s too much to ask for anyone Dingle-adjacent to keep their fucking mouth shut, though.

“We’ll call the police,” Robert says, because Aaron’s doing that thing with his face - that Dingle thing, that thing that says _trouble_ from a mile off. “We’ll get them shut down, don’t worry.”

Aaron’s mulish, quiet and distant. “They’ll get a fine,” he says. “That’s what happens.”

“Aaron,” Paddy says. “There’s nothing you can do, all right. The authorities will handle it.”

Aaron’s jaw is a firm, straight line.

Robert’s stomach churns.

 

They have a fight, obviously. They fight about everything. Robert’s not exactly proud of himself, but he does know who he is and that’s half the battle.

“You cannot do this!” Robert yells. “I - you’re not allowed!”

“I’m _not allowed_ ,” Aaron says, and his voice has slowed down, deliberate, and it’s like watching a fucking car crash, it always is, Robert can see it coming like he’s not in his own body, but it’s coming and it's bad. “You’re telling me what I can and can’t do now, are you?”

“I am when you’re a fucking idiot who can’t take care of yourself,” shouts Robert, and he knows it’s bad and knows it’s getting worse but cannot for the life of him shut his own damn mouth. “This is what you _do,_ Aaron, you walk into _stupid decisions_ and you _get yourself hurt_ and honestly, sometimes I think you like it, because even you aren’t this fucking stupid on your own.”

Aaron’s entire face shuts down. “Right,” he says, in this hollow, empty voice that sets Robert’s entire body on edge. “Glad to know that’s what you think of me.”

 

Robert doesn’t even bother trying for not the sofa. He’s lucky Aaron’s not changed the locks.

Spot the dog rolls over in his bed and blinks at him. He doesn’t growl for once, just barks gently.

“Yeah, yeah,” Robert says, and puts his face in his pillow. It smells like Aaron. He hates everything.

 

-

 

“Hey,” Liv says. She’s got a round little face, like a chipmunk. But an evil one. Since making her acquaintance Robert has found himself glaring venomously at tree rodents, and that is entirely Liv’s fault.

Robert eyes her suspiciously; he’s in the portacabin, doing paperwork, and Liv hates the scrapyard. “What do you want?” He pauses. “Do you have my wallet?”

“No,” Liv says, scalded. “Not this time, anyway. You’re rubbish, you only carry cards.” She’s got Spot with her, on a lead.

Robert raises both eyebrows. “Get on with it.”

“I’m gonna tell Aaron you’re being rude,” she says, half-heartedly. Both of them know better than to involve Aaron; for all of Liv’s many terrible attributes, she loves Aaron and wants to protect him.

Also, any time either of them goes to Aaron he throws his hands up at the both of them, and neither of them want that.

Spot sits down, and tilts his head in Robert’s direction.

Liv sighs. “Aaron’s not answering his phone.”

Robert’s entire body goes cold: ice cold, Aaron in that hospital bed, Aaron in the woods, Aaron in that tiny fucking house on that miserable couch. _I love you, I need you, you can’t leave me._ “How long?”

Liv shrugs. “I dunno,” she says.

“Too long,” Robert says.

“Yeah,” she says. “He was talking, like - he told me to look after Spot. I didn’t think it was anything.”

Robert screws his eyes shut for a moment and gets up, grabbing for his keys. “Nobody ever does,” he says, “and then he’s gone and done something fucking stupid. That’s Aaron. C’mon, get in the car, we’ve got to go.”

 

-

 

Spot sits in Liv’s lap in the passenger seat. She wraps her arms around him and looks very very young; young enough that Robert almost feels sorry for her. “Is he going to be all right?”

Robert’s known Aaron for three years, loved him for two and a half, and he doesn’t think at any point ever has he thought of Aaron as _all right._ “We’re gonna find him,” he promises. He pulls out his phone. “Paddy? Yeah - I need to know where that dog ring is. Yeah, I know - of course he has, it’s fucking _Aaron.”_

Liv coughs. “I’ve got an address,” she says. “He had it written down on a bit of paper in his wallet.”

“I could kiss you, you little thug,” Robert says. “Thank Christ.”

 

-

 

Aaron’s got a bloody nose, a black eye, and a fat lip. He’s standing on the side of the road, faintly swaying, and there are about eight dogs at his side, and one in his arms.

Robert has never felt so relieved in his entire life. He knows he must have - he’s been worried like this about Aaron enough fucking times at this point - but it feels new every time. You just don’t get used to the love of your life risking certain death.

He slams on the brakes and peels out of the car, skids to a halt an arm’s length from Aaron and windmills to a stop. He’s scanning every bit of Aaron’s body: he doesn’t like the way Aaron’s favouring his left side, or any of the colours his face has turned, but he seems okay, mostly. Thank God.

“We’ve been terrified, Aaron, what the-”

“Not now, Rob,” Aaron says. “I’ve done what I was supposed to do, I got the dogs out.”

“And that’s enough?”

“Now you can hurt them,” Aaron says, showing his teeth. There’s a little blood on them. “I’ve got names and addresses. You’re going to financially and personally ruin them. Don’t tell me you don’t know how.”

Robert blinks. “Aaron?”

“I know, I know,” Aaron says. He shoves the dog in his arms at Robert: it’s a pit bull puppy, it snuffles at him and tucks its head into the crook of his arm. “This is Stella. She’s a baby.” He looks tired, mostly. Aaron’s a tough guy, he’s been through a lot. It takes a lot to make him look like this.

“I’m sorry,” Robert says, catching his shoulder; Aaron sways into him, so he puts his arm around Aaron’s shoulders, and Aaron lets him. “I should have been with you.”

“Nah,” Aaron says, faintest hint of a smile curving his mouth. “I know you, mate, you’re no good with violence. Or dogs. You’d have fallen over and cried and one of them would have bitten you. Knew you’d be my getaway driver, anyway.”

“Aaron!” Liv says, tumbling out of the car, Spot in tow. “You saved them!”

“Just call me Superman,” Aaron says, bending to hug her and kiss her hair - and he winces when he does it, Robert sees it, but he’s not going to say anything about it, not now. “Thanks for rescuing me.”

She nods. “Robert drove,” she allows.

“Wouldn’t have known where to go without Liv,” Robert says.

Aaron straightens up and looks between the two of them. “Cute,” he says, warm in the eyes. Robert loves him so much, fuck. “All right, let’s get in the car; trust me, we do not want these jokers on our tail.”

 

Robert is definitely going to have to have his car detailed, but he keeps his mouth shut. He’s learning to pick his battles.

 

-

 

They take the dogs to Paddy, except for Stella, who doesn’t want to leave Robert, for some reason. Liv’s staying over: she curls up against Aaron’s side, Spot on Aaron’s lap, and falls asleep against his shoulder.

“I was really worried,” Robert says. He sounds petulant, he thinks. Like a little kid.

“I know,” Aaron says. He presses a kiss to the corner of Robert’s mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to scare you.”

Stella snores gently in Robert’s lap. He looks down and brushes a hand across her fur. Up-down, up-down, goes her chest. She's kind of cute. He doesn't dislike her. “You could have gotten really hurt, Aaron.”

“I know,” Aaron repeats. “It was the right thing to do, Robert. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Because I don’t ever do the right thing?”

“That came out wrong.” Aaron ducks his head, presses his shoulder into Robert’s. Robert wants to go stiff, wants to pull away, but he can’t do that. It’s Aaron. “I just- someone hurt them, Robert. Someone _broke them_ and - they were just gonna kill them. Just write them off.”

“Oh, Aaron,” Robert says. Wraps his arm around Aaron’s shoulders and pulls him in, presses a kiss to his temple. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”

Aaron Livesy: patron saint of broken wild things. Robert’s never loved anyone more.

“I knew you’d come for me,” Aaron says, looking away. “I knew you would.”

“Next time just _ask,_ ” Robert says.

“Next time don’t have a fucking go at me,” Aaron says, bristling, and the air goes tense for a moment before they grin at each other, fiercely, and Aaron leans in to kiss him.

 

They have to get Liv to bed: she’s out like a fucking lamp. Aaron bends to get his arms around her but hisses as he does it.

“I’ll do it,” Robert says, waving him off, “don’t be stupid, Aaron, I’m not going to drop her or anything.”

Spot cracks one eye open, balefully, but closes it again. Worn out.

“I think he likes you,” Aaron offers.

“Shut it, you,” Robert says, scooping Liv up. “I’ll meet you in bed, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Aaron says, “I’ll brush my teeth.”

 

Liv stirs as he’s putting her into bed, tugging off her shoes. “Aaron?”

“No, it’s me,” Robert says. “Sorry to disappoint.”

She yawns, turning her face into her pillow. “You’re not so bad,” she says. “Could be worse.”

“Thanks,” Robert says, strangely touched. “You too, kid.”

 

“Cute,” Aaron says, leaning in the doorway.

Robert kisses his cheek, takes him by the elbow. “Never speak of it,” he says. “C’mon, let’s get you lying down.”

“Just wanna get me in bed,” Aaron says, but he yawns, lets Robert steer him out of the doorway, and pulls the door shut behind them.

 

-

 

“I had a dog once,” Aaron says, soft. “His name was Clyde. I loved him more than I’d ever loved anyone. He died. I couldn’t let it happen again.”

Robert wraps his arms around Aaron, very tight. “You know I’m gonna do what you wanted,” he says. “Their lives won’t be worth living, when I’m done.”

“I know,” Aaron says. Kisses Robert quickly, hotly. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Robert says. He pauses. “I don’t want nine more dogs.”

Aaron twists his mouth up at the corners, a little laugh. “We’ll talk about it,” he says.

“We not talking now?” Robert asks.

“Nah,” Aaron says, tangling his fingers in Robert’s hair, pulling him down to kiss. His breath puffs out, hot against Robert’s lips. “We’ve got making up to do.”

 

-

**Author's Note:**

> \- backstory for the original dog character is a former underground fighting ring; aaron saves every dog and justice is served in the form of robert nuclearly destroying the perpetrators
> 
> \- aaron is a disney princess about troubled dogs; don't try this at home, obviously


End file.
